Impossible Love (Completed)

K

Kaiser

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The year is 1943, Germany has occupied France for three years now and runs rampant across Europe. With Hitler's secret campaign, Jewish people are found, captured, and murdered for no reason, a mass genocide. If they're are fortunate enough not to be caught, they are heavily looked down upon and ridiculed. Even with an allied country such as France, Germans and others living there still will not give the Jewish population the time of day..but some still do. Some see past the damned morals.
 
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Emilee Van Dan - 21 - Female - Sweet, compassionate, hard-headed​

Emilee balanced a small tray of drinks in her hand, swooping through the rocking door and into the small shop beyond. Her father had bought the shop three years back; a Jewish family had left it behind after fleeing for their lives, and Wolfe had snagged it like a hungry lion. Emilee still felt guilty, knowing that some family had put blood, sweat and tears into their face, only to have it ripped away. Of course, her family showed little mercy for those "filthy Jews". Hitler's words had been etched into their minds and hearts long ago - Emilee supposed she was just too young to be victim, too.

Rough German soldiers coated just about every table in the shop. Their accents were thick and Emilee could easily pick out their heavy slang and vulgar words as they conversed over beer and coffee. Most of them requested the hard stuff, but Wolfe refused to sell it before noon.

One rough man ruffled at her skirt and Emilee shooed him away quickly. She imagined this was exactly the reason her father and his partner, Anton, kept her out here. Her "cute little fanny" attracted all the younger man, and the liquor kept them coming back. Emilee hated to be degraded in such a way but knew that wasn't her father's intention. Also, they needed this money; the war had stretched their dollars thin, and with five siblings, any extra was welcomed.

The young woman trailed across the room once the drinks were dropped off. A man with a ratty looking suede coat and heavy boats was seated at a chair, his shoulders slumped. Not a soldier. That was good; perhaps his mouth wasn't foul and his demenour was still soft. He looked just a few years her senior but in terrible need of a good scrubbing.

She smiled daintily as she approached his table, "sir, can I get you anything?"
 
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Character: Efron: Timid, Strong willed, Tolerant, and seeking acceptance- a friend or more


Efron looked up at the girl with gloom in his eyes. Why he had convinced himself to partake at this establishment was beyond him. With all the soldiers, he was a ticking bomb practically. He had to keep his identity low and for 4 years he had done so. " I'll take a cup of coffee and a danish, if that's not too much miss." He pulled out a rugged wallet and some change to cover the price. He put it on the table and slid it to a position she could reach it when the time called. He coughed a few times, causing some soldiers to give looks. Efron simply kept his head down and fumbled with his fingers. He was to satisfy his hunger and thirst to the best of his abilities and be off.

Efron was, beneath the threat he had placed himself in, relieved he could finally have decent food. He had spent the last few days in an alley just down the road. He had no home, and no shelter would except him. Most knew of his background being as he had lived here all his life. Friends he grew up with now despised him. Idols he looked up to were now idols of hatred. Worst of all, his loving family were all gone, except his sister who was living in southern France. She had moved to their Aunt and Uncle's for what they thought would be a summer, but it turned into 4 years from her family. She know that Efron was all that was left from a letter he was able to send, but it was only one letter. That itself was 2 years ago. So there sat Efron, alone and poor. He managed a smile to the waitress though, who's beauty made him feel warm and safe.
 

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She quickly scampered off to retrieve the man his needs. Underneath the heavy coat he looked like he could use a lot more than a single danish. Smiling softly to herself, Emilee escaped into the back where their cook was throwing together some lunch menu items. Behind his back, Emilee quickly snatched off and put it onto a plate. She even retrieved a few pickles from the fridge, as well as the danish the man had ordered, before setting back off into the bustling shop.

Her father was nearby and Emilee could faintly hear his conversing with a soldier to the far side of the room. He had his hand to his lip in thought and he was staring right in the direction of the poor man.

Emilee quickly approached the table and placed the plate in front of him.
When he looked at the food, she was sure she saw his eyes light up. But then he began rummaging around in his wallet again and Emilee frowned deeply. Quickly, she leaned over, auburn curls slipping from her collar, and smiled at him, "do not worry, I can take care of the bill. You look like you need more than a danish. I'll be back with your coffee in just a moment."
She didn't even allow the man to respond as she rushed off. It took her a good few minutes to get the coffee because several of the greedy soldiers at another table beckoned her attention. Emilee quickly assuaged them with a kind smile and refills and then returned to her customer. He had not touched the sandwich and looked more sickly than she had left him. A few of the hyped up soldiers nearby, looking no older than she, snickered at them.

"Eat," she smiled, "I promise, it is no trouble. My vater* owns this place; what's his is mine."

---

* Father
 
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"Vielen dank." Efron's German was rubbish and his accent stuck out uncomfortably. He only knew a few words and this was only from years of hearing it from the German invaders. He stared at his now full meal, at least to him, and blessed it every way. He hadn't eaten this much since he could recollect. With every small bite he consumed, he felt as if he was being glared upon by every soldier there. He sipped his coffee and closed his eyes, indulging in it's taste and aroma.

To eat fast would most likely hurt Efron's stomach so he made sure to ration and eat only small amounts at one time, sipping more coffee to clear his throat. For the time, he felt like there was no war, and that he was home with his family enjoying a hot meal his mother would make. A tear escaped his eye as he sat and he quickly took out a cloth to remove it. Eventually the meal had been almost completely eaten and Efron sat there more than satisfied. He felt he was committing a felony but his hunger was what controlled his mind. Now full, a lucrative feeling for him, the last item on his list was to thank the waitress who blessed him with his meal.

He sat and waited for her to make her round to him. He pulled out a necklace that had a gemstone encased in a golden dome. It was his mothers and although it meant the world to him, the kindness shown to him today was something he had not witnessed for the longest time. He would give it to her, as a token of extreme gratitude.
 
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Emilee could feel her father's eyes on her back, practically searing through her clothing. If there was anything that Wolfe hated more than a Jew, it was a Jew that his daughter seemed to get friendly with.
Still, Emilee had learned through the years to stand up to her father. Though the only girl in the family, she was tough as her older brothers.

Just as the young woman was about to make her round to the Jewish man's table once more, a large hand gripped the tie of her dress and pulled her backwards. Emilee swore she even heard the fabric rip along the seam.
When the grasp suddenly loosened, Emilee turned to stand toe-to-toe with her father. The man was a burly 250lbs to her 110, nearly a foot taller than her, too. His eyes seared into her, an accusing glare.

Soon there was a ruckus behind her and Emilee spun again, feeling her father's hand against her waist, nearly a restraint. What Emilee turned to really had her blood running cold; a collection of burly German soldiers had surrounded the man's table, asking him in thick accents and disjointed English how he thought he could use a girl to get himself some free grub. When the Jewish man tried to protest and explain, they cut him off with fowl words and growls.

The man stood from his chair abruptly, a piece in his hand reflecting the light. Emilee tried to shake off his father's grip but it only tightened.

One of the fowl soldiers took the golden chain and pendant from the man's hand and began swinging it around with a hearty chuckle. The Jewish man's face visibly paled and his shoulders fell. The German with the locket bellowed, "ah look, little fellow here wanted to give the little lady a token!"
The man scowled and shook his head hastily.
Wolfe huffed and in his brief moment of surprise and weakness, Emilee tore from his hold. She was small and quick, crossing the small room before any man could grab hold of her.

First she ripped the locket from the German's hand and then grabbed blindly for her Jewish companion, feeling what she prayed was his arm and suddenly pulling him off. She knew that if she escaped to the overhead apartment her father would come around them and so instead she pulled him away into the back alley. It was cold and shadowed by the heavy brick structure, but kept them concealed nonetheless.

Her chest heaving with exhaustion, Emilee pressed the locket against his chest, "here." She closed her eyes briefly, "you need to leave, or they will find you..."
 
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Efron stared into her eyes with a depressing glare. He took the locket and put it into her palms, folding her fingers around it. "My name is Efron, and you have installed faith back into my life. I will not forget this." He turned and walked down the alley as German curses were heard coming near.

Efron turned the corner and started a light jog. Although his image appeared broken, years of running and hiding had surprisingly gave him an above average fitness level. This did not stop the fact he was still weak and prone to sickness easily. He knew exactly where to run. There was a sewer grate that he had taken the time to loosen and once he arrived he propped it up. Efron then climbed in and closed it. There he sat on the makeshift chair he built and became as silent as a gentle breeze. He had used this spot countless times and never once had it failed. It was located in a back alley and unless someone had seen him, which he made very sure would not happen, he was safe.

Efron prayed that the lady would be safe but he knew that the Germans would not be kind to her, even if she was of their blood. He had half a mind to return to save her, but knew that would end badly for the both of them. Efron also hoped the locket would be kept safe. He knew the problem did not lie within the lady, but rather the impending doom she was to face.
 
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Emilee collasped down into her coat, feeling hurt and defeated in more ways than one. Her father had practically wrestled her out of the alleyway and the German soldiers had yelled at her for being such a foolish woman. Still, Emilee was content to know that he would be safe tonight.

Her wrists hurt from where her father had gripped her so hard and she rubbed at the tender flesh. Surely that would bruise later; not that it was some rare occurence. Though Emilee imaged her father did not intend to hurt her - he only underestimated his own strength - it was often he held bruises on her. When her mother came to visit from the country she often saw the bruises, her eyes touched with sadness.

Emilee shed her dress and climbed underneath her quilt. It was old and small, something her grandmother had knitted ages ago when Emilee was just a toddler. Still, it was a fond reminder of her life before the war and if she let her mind drift, she could nearly feel her mother's arms around her.
Her hands found the pocket of her dress and she sought out the little token of gold. Thankfully her father had not discovered her, and Emilee couldn't help but cherish it. The Jewish man had been a stranger but the look in his eyes had spoken volumes; the emerald pendant meant a fair deal to him, and giving it to a young waitress was no easy task. I will not forget this. Emilee could only hope he wouldn't return. She'd get it back to him somehow, but still, she prayed that he wouldn't try to evade the coffee shop again. That would only bring doom to them both.

~ ~ ~

It was several hours later when Emilee was roused from sleep. Stripped down to her undergarments with the pendant still clasped in her hand, Emilee jumped from bed. Someone - or something - was clattering on her bedroom window. Her room was the only window facing the back alley, while her father's was in the front.
Carefully, Emilee drew back the curtain and squinted in the darkness. Someone was on the roof above the coffee shop, one story down.
Emilee's eyes narrowed and then she startled when another rock hit the glass in front of her. Quickly, she collected a night dress and then ran back to the window, pushing it open.

"Hello?" she called out softly, squinting at the shadowed figure in the darkness.
 
Re: Impossible Love

Efron, now realizing he had gotten her attention, dropped the remaining rocks in his hand. He wasn't going to continue pelting her window much longer so her voice was brought him great elation. He started his words off with slight humor, hoping it would start their conversation off easier. "I never got your name miss. After everything you did for me I hate to ask for more but...what is your name?" Efron wanted to move closer but the chance of creating anymore noise than he did scaling the building he was on was certain trouble. So for now, he remained a shadow in the night. He could make out her face though, the moon shining just enough to see her. She was beautiful, everything about her. Her face was so pure and just as at the shop, Efron felt safe looking into her eyes.

"I hope the men didn't hurt you. You shouldn't have been the one to suffer, that was a fate for me." His inner core crumbled at the same passing notion that she put her self out for a man she barely knew. It hurt him deeply and he needed to know what the damage was. He stood in the cool night air, waiting for a hopefully positive answer. For that he prayed for deeply.
 
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"My name is Emilee. With two E's." She winced a bit; she was acting like she was telling the man at the bank her name, or her grade school teachers. Emilee with two E's.. That was who she had introduced herself as a ripening twelve-year-old, and she supposed that the introduction had stuck. Still, she doubted that the twenty-something man cared how to spell her name.

She watched him for a long moment, standing on the rooftop. Again, now that she could see him without the obstruction of the German soldiers or her father, she noted his wonderful physique. A broad back that extended out to his shoulders, tapered in at the waist. His dark slacks pulled in when he bent one leg, displaying a fair amount of toned muscle underneath. Efron reminded her much of her brothers; well sculpted by hard labour, but underneath, a sweet soft centre.

Emilee smiled gingerly at his concern for her and angled her body out of the window a little more. The cool breeze prickled at her skin but she wanted to get closer to him.

"It's nothing I cannot handle," she called out gently. As if an instinct, she pulled down the sleeves of her night dress, curtaining small bruises on her wrists. Her father hadn't intended for the markings and she would never want Efron to get angry over them. Her father, deep inside, was a kind man; only years of war and heartache had left him cold and hard.

Fishing through her pockets, Emilee extracted the golden pendant. Clasping onto it tightly, she dangled it slightly from the window. "I can't take this from you, Efron... it-it looks like it pays a heavy coin, or perhaps is heavy in sentimental value. It's got an engraving and everything." But of course he knew that; Emilee had seen the apprehension and pure thankfulness when he had given it to her.
 
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Efron smiled at her voice. It was the silver lining in his life now. She was the silver lining. "Please Emilee, keep it. I parted with full knowing of what it meant to me. It was my mother's. She was a strong willed woman. Always looking after my siblings and I. She always used to say, "If you don't know what's the right thing to do, then you're doing it wrong." It wasn't always clear what that meant. I mean the saying is direct but it still never clicked for me. Today, what you did for me. It was if my mother herself had been there." He paused for a moment, caught up in his own words.


He said no more on the topic of his mother. Instead he changed the subject. "Emilee, this is wrong of me to ask, but I want to see you again, under different circumstances. A safe place." Efron truly believed he had a purpose to be here again. He did not know what his feelings were, but perhaps a chance to make a great friend was in teh balance. Being the loner he was, a friend was something more valuable than all the money, valuables, or anything else in the world.
 
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The young woman surveyed the area around; brick wall extending downwards at least a story, the roof shingles falling off the surface below. No sooner thought though and Emilee quickly shimmied out of the window. She heard Efron cursing lightly until his breath and then hurrying after her. Emilee wasn't quite sure how she had gotten down but now she was sitting in a heap on the roof, the rough surface scraping at her bare legs.

She must have fallen the way down because Efron was soon by her side, asking in a low voice, "you okay, Emilee?!"
Other than a few scrapes, Emilee felt find. She smiled timidly and nodded her head. She was fortunate that her father required from the shop rather early, and wouldn't hear the commotion on the shop roof.
Slowly, Emilee rose to her feet. The roof was slanted heavily and she stood awkwardly to maintain her balance.

Like the previous night, the young woman pressed the pendant to Efron's chest, a slight indication that he needed to take it back. What woman in her right mind would take such a special token from an unknown man? Emilee could see in his eyes that he meant well, his actions innocent and sincere, but the item would burn a hole in her pocket if she kept it.

"You need to go, Efron," she whispered, averting her eyes to his bobbing Adam's apple, "it isn't safe for you around here... you should know that. I am not sure what you are after, but you need to take this pendant and not return. My father - and probably every other soldier that has walked through those doors - would have your head if they knew you were trying to see me."
 
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Efron's spirit collapsed from her words. He collected the pendant and shoved it in the pocket he pulled it from earlier that day. "If this is what you wish, Emilee, I will respect it. Goodbye Emilee. " He closed in and lightly kissed her cheek with only part of his lips, as if he was greeting her. He grabbed her hand in his, rubbing it slowly. "Never change who you are Emilee. You're exactly what this world needs." He let go and walked over to where he had climbed up. He descended and made his way into an alley, off the main street.

Efron was crushed, but he knew she was right. What he wanted, even herself perhaps, was far too risky for both their lives. He gently strolled down the alley with a depressed demeanor. He could not stay in his hometown any longer. He would be a target for any German that he crossed. This was truly a new low for himself. He was used to disappointment though and figured he would get over this, with time.
 
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What was she meant to do? Being friends, even just talking, would bring them both a world of trouble. She knew that her father would hurt them all - in more ways than one - if he ever found out that his daughter was seeing a Jew. And though Emilee knew that Efron's intention was purely innocent, her father would never see it that way.
What was the use in starting something that would only be doomed from the beginning?

~ ~ ~

They had come out of no where. Emilee had been getting a new loaves of bread from the downtown general store when the German soldiers had descended. Sometimes, she likened them to vultures - always looking for new prey, spotting signs of weakness and only descending when they knew the time was right.
Without her father nearby to calm their rowdy spirits, Emilee was soon closed in. She could smell the alcohol in their breath; it wasn't even one in the afternoon and already they were juiced beyond reason.

"My my, a recht kleine Frau* without her daddy or brother nearby? I remember you, 'ittle thing. From daddy's shop. That man beat my hand whenever I even thought of lifting that skirt," one with large teeth and a smooth scowl purred, "well, wo Vati jetzt ist**?"
Emilee's mind was in a flurry of self defense, mind scrambling for a way out. She say rotten faces; dark skinned men with angry expressions, sun drenched and hardened with war. Starved from nourishment in more ways than one, Emilee couldn't help but associate them with vultures again. Angry animals, the soldiers were; ruined by time in the battle, the loss of family, the tragedy in front of them.

---

* pretty little woman
** where is daddy now?
 
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Efron had gotten everything together and was ready to embark on his new journey away from this town. He walked along the street wearing an old coat and a damaged hat that concealed his face enough when he lowered it slightly. As if by miracle he saw Emilee, but she was in obvious danger. German soldiers had her pinned and if Efron didn't act, who knows what would come out of it.

Efron started slow, walking closer to the scene. As he approached he began to plan on how it was he were to save her, if he could. He was hopelessly outnumbered. On top of this they were armed with rifles and pistols. Seeing as there was no other choice he ran across the street and tackled one of the soldiers into the glass window pane the shop used to display some goods. This caused the soldier holding Emilee to release his grip. Efron quickly gained his composure using another soldier to pick himself up, throwing him the the ground. As he kicked the fallen soldier to keep him down he was batted in the back by the butt of a soldiers gewehr. He tried his best to ignore the pain and countered ripping the gun from the solider and smashing it across his skull. There were two soldiers left and one was already after Efron. The other stood back, the one that had Emilee in a grip. Efron started a contest of strength with the approached solider. They wrestled around until finally Efron could pin him on his stomach. He smashed the soldier face into the concrete.

Finally, there was one left. How Efron managed this was nothing short of a miracle. The final German soldier, now angry beyond belief, pulled out his sidearm. It was a Walther P38, it looked custom to Efron. He knew this soldier would fire without hesitation and needed to think quick. He rolled the unconscious soldier over on top of him as the soldier fired. It had worked but Efron needed to subdue him. The German on top of him had been wear a helmet. Efron ripped it off and to the best of his ability he threw it at the armed German. He dodged it but it was just enough time for Efron to leap up and attack. They, like the previous soldier, started into a match of strength. Only this time a pistol was included as a deadly prize for the winner. " Du dummer saujuden!" The german screamed. Efron noticed his right arm started slipping and he took this oppurtunity, he slipped his arm over and took control of the German's balance. The pistol dropped to the ground. Efron was then kicked and fell to one knew. The German pulled out a knife and just as he was to end Efron's life, Efron grabbed the pistol and fired.

The soldier dropped and Efron, out of breathe, looked towards Emilee. "Run...run." The soldier had managed to clip Efron's shoulder with the knife. He was bleeding and tired beyond belief.
 
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There had been so many of them - three, four five... Emilee had lost count. They were a swirling array of faces and voices, curse and vulgar words spat at her. Emilee had felt one of them pawing at her dress when suddenly she was ripped from their hands, a flurry of movement and loud grunting ensuing.

She blinked and it was nearly over. Somehow she had ended up a crumpled heap on the ground, her breathing ragged from trying to fight them off. Her eyes had been squeezed closed, afraid what she would see if she dared to look. She had heard the shots, the cries of agony... Is this what war was like?

When she finally did look, Emilee's heart caught in her throat. Death and destruction, blood and hurt, surrounded her. All the soldiers were injured or dead around her. Some spat out blood, cursing at themselves in German. Emilee wrapped her arms around herself, feeling for any damage. No a cut scored her white skin and she breathed in deeply.
Then how...?
Mama had always told her about those out-of-body experiences people had when they were danger. Sometimes they committed acts out of self preservation, barely registering that they had managed to do such a thing. Still, Emilee hadn't recalled firing the gun and she could see the wounds on some of the Germans.

She brought her fingers to her lips and cried out softly when she realized that Efron was nearby. His face was grave and his coat he had been slashed, revealing an awful cut and a river of blood below.
Emilee sobbed and watched as he dropped down to his knees, agony in his eyes. Run? Emilee's legs felt like jelly and her stomach was so far up her throat she felt like she was going to throw up.
People were beginning to cluster around them; the owner of the shop with the broken window cursing them all for doing such a thing. A few nearby men gripped at Emilee, and a woman in a pretty red church dress cupped at her cheek and asked if she was alright.

Emilee brushed them off quickly and crawled across the pavement. Efron sat there bleeding and yet everyone fretted over her nonexistent wounds?
She flung herself at the young man, wary of his wounds and exasperated breathing. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and Emilee cried softly, a sad smile playing on her lips. "You foolish, foolish man. I am not running anywhere."
 
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Efron gasped for breathe, the moment was over but his body was still in shock. He felt Emilee's presence but could not react at all. He was a body with no mind. The mind was off, somehwere, but not here. He coughed many times and his arm was seemingly attached to his wound as he tried to stop the bleeding. What was to come from him. Not only was he Jewish but he had just committed assault and murder. No one would sympathize for him, no one but Emilee, and she was powerless to stop the authorities.

Efron breathing finally calmed, but his vision began to blur. No! He couldn't pass out. He had to run, hide...again. Although his mind, now returning, screamed to run, his body stayed cold. Then with a snap of a finger, Efron eyes closed and he fell limp to the ground. Only thinking before the world turned black, "Is Emilee safe. Is she alright?"

(I am sorry for the short post, I am moving back into my college dorm)
 
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It had taken some powerful strategics on Emilee's part, but somehow she managed to convince the onlookers that she and her companion were fine. She covered up the Star of David band on his arm by wrapping her purple shawl around his shoulders. Efron had passed out several minutes ago and Emilee knew that she was now stuck in a hard place. Efron needed medical attention, and soon.

The authorities were soon to arrive, tall burly men in dark officer uniforms. Their faces were kind, though, sympathetic to the battered young girl. She refused to leave Efron's side as she relayed them the story. She even added in a few fibs for good measure, praying that it would take the blame off of her saviour's back.

"They pulled a knife, and... and said that they'd kill me... if-if I screamed," she said tearfully; it wasn't completely a lie... she had seen the knife glinting somewhere in a flurry of movement and growls.
"Efron saved me," she whispered, staring down into his face. He was in need of a shave but he looked like an angel in her arms; her guardian angel. "He needs help; he needs stitches..." Carefully, she reached underneath the shawl and pulled the Star of David band from around his arm. Without it, he'd just be another regular French civilian.

Emilee fervently wished that they would have allowed the couple to their own devices. Wishful thinking, though; Efron was a murderer, and even in the war, such things were not taken lightly. France was meant to be a safe Haven for all... unfortunately, it was poorly enforced so close to the borders.

All of the German soldiers - there were five in them in total - were carted to the hospital. All but one were dead. Tears came to Emilee's eyes knowing that Efron, a complete stranger to her, had killed those men for her. She knew that the German soldiers did it everyday, but there was something so utterly personal about the situation. Perhaps it was fear she saw in his eyes when he fought them off... the concern for her and the pure determination to see her safe.

Efron only required seven stitches across his shoulder; the faint had been more in shock than blood loss. When it came Emilee's time to be examined, she had wished for only stitches, too. The doctor had been horribly rough with her and considering she had alleged sexual assault, a mortifying exam was in order.

When the young woman finally emerged from the small room in the police station, she could hear her father's voice booming.

"I brought my child here to be safe, and all you slugs can do is lock the guy up? He killed four men in front of her!" he bellowed.
 
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Efron woke in a cell. The first thing he felt was the pain in his shoulder. He couldn't quite remember what had happened, and waking up in a bed was the last thing he expected. He looked around, still groggy, and no one was in the room with him. he could hear a man shouting but did not recognize the voice, no determine what he was saying. Efron sat up and cringed at the intense pain the followed.

He took a moment to collect himself. Of course Emilee came to mind and his expression became more severe. Where was she, was she safe? Then it all flooded back into his mind. He took on a squad of soldiers harassing Emilee. What was to become of him, he obviously had not ran and now knew he was in some building. A prison? Most likely. It was then he realized his band was gone? Did they confiscate it? He had surely hoped not. Perhaps it fell of during the fight.

Thoughts continually flowed through his brain until he saw a man walk into the room. An officer to be exact. He was German and Efron's heart seemed to freeze. Did he know that he was jewish? Efron fearfully awaited for the man to talk. "E-...Ef-..." The officer was filing through names and finally found his. "Efron, richtig. Excuse me for my english is not strong. You you are here on account of a girl named Emilee. Ja, ok follow me if you would, are you able to do so?" The officer obviously wasn't beating him as they spoke so he must have been ignorant of Efron's background. Efron stood up, trying his best to conceal the pain, and followed the officer. He lead him out into a lobby where both Wolfe and Emilee stood. "Ist das der Mann, Sie wollten Wölfe zu sehen?*" Efron did not know what he had said, but instead waited until someone spoke up in English, which was unlikely.

~~~~
Is this the man you wanted to see Wolfe?*
 
Re: Impossible Love

When Efron emerged, his bag shoulder bandaged up and his expression grave, Emilee wanted to launch herself into him. Safe; he was alright. And if Emilee was forced onto her death bed to save his soul, she would gladly save him as he had her.

Wolfe's eyes seared into the young woman, his mouth tight. Emilee knew that he was fighting away anger because his fists were clenched. She had seen that stance before; there were many times her brothers had acted out and he had restrained his anger. Emilee could only hope that her father would do so now, as well.

Emilee wrapped her arms around his waist and her father approached Efron. Two burly officers stood nearby, and she wondered if they would intervene if he swung at him. "Vati," Emilee murmured, catching his attention briefly, "he is not at fault; he saved me."
The vein in the older man's neck suddenly began to pulsate and he struck a long glance at his daughter, "saved you by bathing you in blood? I think not, dear heart."
He approached Efron and quickly spat in his face, "all you do is cause my daughter and I trouble. I suggest you scram, boy, before you're the one with the bullet through your heart. I happen to know some of those kids you beat, and they didn't deserve none of that."
"Father!" Emilee cried, rushing forward. Once more, the man's hot gaze caught her face and she cowered only slightly. When the fear wore off a few seconds later, Emilee raised her chin and gripped at Efron's arm, "this man saved me from those men. They attacked me, and he jumped in, risking his own life. I think we all owe him our gratitude, not such fowl remarks!"
Wolfe spat and chuckled deep in his throat, "thank this kid? I don't know what game you're playing, boy, but Jew or not... you're going to pay a heavy price for what you did today."
 
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